Piece of Mind (Criminal Minds FF)

1. Spencer Reid

The Detective

I wake up to the monotone sound of my alarm clock. I reach over to stop the shrilling noise before it reaches its maximum volume. I swing my feet to the side of my bed as I sit up. I disconnect my phone from its charger and click it, so it would display the time: 7:01 a.m.

I place my phone back down and walk over towards my closet. Chills run through my spine as my feet touch the freezing floor. I open the closet door and grab the outfit I chose the night before. I walk into the bathroom and take a shower.

After I get out, I change into my clothes and dry my hair. Even though I was pretty sure I turned it off, a crescendoing alarm rings throughout my head.

Once I finish brushing my hair, I get out of the bathroom and carefully make my bed. I walk to the window and open the curtains. I watch as the sun rays dance into my room.

Then, I head downstairs to the kitchen. On my way downstairs, I can't help but to notice the memories held onto the wall by the happiness of the photographs. I smile as I look at the mesmerizing memories made by those I love.

I realize how long I stood there, so I focus on where I was headed. I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen. I take out the items I need to make my coffee.

I start preparing my coffee, listening to the drops of coffee pour into the coffee pot. I quickly go back to my room to grab my book, The Narrative of John Smith. I walk back down the stairs with the book in my hand and pour some coffee into my coffee mug. I take my mug and my book and sit in my usual reading spot: the couch.

I take a sip of my coffee and place my mug on the table beside me. I look up from my book when I hear the doorbell, which is weird, because if it was one of the kids I tutor, even though it was my day off, they would know just to walk inside. I place my bookmark and set my book down as I get off the couch.

I swing the door open to a group of official-looking people, and I put up a smile.

"Hello, how may I help..."

I trail off when I see him at the back of the group. Spencer Reid. Tall and awkward, standing nervously. He looks just like he used to, but with better-looking hair.

"...you." I hiss the last word out of anger and surprise. His brown eyes look up at me.

"Cl—"

"No, thank you." I slam the door as hard as I can.

"—aire." I faintly hear him finish through the door. I lean my back against it. It's been six years since I last saw Spencer Reid. I didn't want to see him again. Not after what he did. I can hear voices of the group talking through the door before it goes quiet except for footsteps. There is a knock on the door.

"Claire? It's me. Spencer."

"Go. Away," I say harshly, punctuating each word.

"Well, at least you remember me."

He did not just say that.

I yank the door again and stalk towards him furiously, making him take a few steps back, his eyes wide open.

"Remember you? REMEMBER YOU?!" I half yell. The group of people that came with him look startled. "You give me one good reason, Spencer Reid. Give me one reason why I shouldn't go into my house, get my gun, and shoot you through the head right now!"

He takes another step back, and I can see a few of his friends resting their hands on their guns around their waists. I see the flash of a badge, and I realize that Spencer made his dream of being on the BAU team.

"And no, your big, bad FBI friends don't scare me!"

I pause for a moment before turning to his team. "No offense to you guys. I'm sure serial killers think you're terrifying." I turn back to Reid. "But you. YOU. You have no right to come on my property. You have no right to be here, so I'll ask again. Why. Are. You. Here."

"I- I- It's-"

"I? It's? Oh my, goodness! Is the great genius Spencer Reid stumbling over his words?" I mock.

There's a heartbeat of silence.

"I'm still waiting for an answer, Spencer."

"We need- I need your help for a case."

"You need me? For a case?"

He nods diffidently.

"Well, in that case, I'll help."

I walk towards the door, but then I turn to face Spencer.

"You have to stay at least five feet away from me at all times. Do you understand?"

He nods again, this time with more confidence.

"Really? I don't think you do," I tell him.

He looks down and takes two steps away from me.

"Thank you."

I stride back into my house, leaving the door open for Reid and his little team behind me. When they don't immediately follow, I just shrug and sit on the couch, picking up my book again. I hear hushed voices as they walk into the room, a few of them sit on the available chairs, a few of them remain standing. Spencer stands the farthest away, taking my warning seriously... As he should.

I set my book down and hold out my hand towards the man I assume is in charge.

"Claire Brooks."

He looks at me with a hard glare.

"You threatened to shoot one of my agents, Detective," he says harshly. I draw my hand back.

"Yes, sir. I did," I confirm. "You were there."

Everyone in the room is either glaring at me or just plain staring at me. I sigh and roll my eyes.

"It's not like I was going to go through with it."

"How would we know that?" the African-American guy standing next to Spencer asks.

"Hmm. Well, considering my gun is safely placed inside my desk at the police station, I would say it's a safe assumption," I say with just a hint of sarcasm.

"Why were you threatening to kill Reid?" a woman with blond hair asks.

At that question, my eyebrows shoot up with disbelief. I look at Spencer and see him look anywhere but at his team or me.

"Oh my, goodness!" I say with a laugh. "You haven't told them. You never told them what you did to me, did you?" He stays silent, giving me my answer. "You didn't tell them how you ruined my life? How you tore it to pieces for your own personal gain?"

His team is glancing between us with confusion.

"You know, for being a genius, you are extremely dumb, Spencer Reid."

"We need your help on a case, Claire," he says quietly, still avoiding eye contact. I lean back, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Reid, what's going on? What did she mean when she said you destroyed her life?" a woman with black hair asks him.

"Yeah, Reid, why don't you tell them?"

Spencer shuffles nervously.

"If the decreasing state of the killer remains consistent, we only have a few days before we have another victim show up. We're wasting time."

I roll my eyes as his team focuses on that. Not that I could blame them. They were dealing with murders.

"The reason we're here is because Reid said you could help us with a case. We need someone to talk to other people in town. What better person can do just that than El Paso's detective?" says the guy assumed was in charge.

"The one about the dead kids?" I ask, and he nods.

"They're aren't just 'dead kids'," the older gentleman with graying hair explains. "It's a little more complicated than that."

He hands me a file folder, and I open it. I look at the pictures and realize what I'm going up against. Right when I thought it couldn't get worse, it did.